Save Me Because I Can't
by NotSoSilent Suicide
Summary: Quinn is abused daily by her father. His belittlement begins to seep into her brain, and she starts to believe that she is, in fact, to blame, and deserves everything she gets. When she begins to abuse herself, can Rachel break through her heavily guarded wall to help? TW: Abuse, Self-Harm
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, Faberry woulda happened LONG ago.**

**Warnings: Graphic child abuse, mentions of self-loathing, and suicidal thoughts**

**Eventual Faberry with mentions of Brittana**

* * *

Quinn's eyes were bloodshot as her gaze remained firmly on her bedroom door. The light switch was flicked off, and the only source of light was from the hallway. The light peered through the cracks of the door. Every shadow that crossed caused the blonde's breathing to hitch in her throat, and choke her with fear. When it would pass, even then she couldn't quite calm herself to relax.

Every sound reverberated throughout her ears, and her nerves would suddenly spasm a bit in a wild panic. At that moment, nothing was heard besides her erratic breathing, and that seemed too loud of a noise for Quinn's liking. She placed her sweating palm over her mouth in an attempt to stifle the sound.

The blonde pulled the covers closer to her body in hopes of protection. However, all it resulted in was unnecessary heat. It felt to hot, so she quickly shuffled the blanket off herself. The cool air tingled her skin, and goosebumps erupted on her bare arms. The hairs on her arms stood on edge, and a low creaking sound tore her from her panic induced reverie.

A whimper tumbled from her lips, and Quinn curled into herself. The creaking grew closer and closer, and tears stung her eyes irritatingly. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, and her lip was nearly bleeding from how hard she was chewing on it. A shadow blocked the hallway light, and her room grew slightly darker. Fear gripped her tightly, and she closed her eyes, hoping it would block the world out.

_Creak. _

The door opened slowly, and heavy footsteps entered the room. Quinn covered her eyes with her hands, and a single sob sounded in her throat. She could already smell the alcohol as the aroma drifted to her nose. She could taste the vomit in her throat, but she swallowed it down roughly.

_Crack! _

The sound of a belt hitting his palm echoed harshly in the blonde's head. Another sob burst through her firmly shut lips. Tears slowly started to pour out of her eyes. Footsteps stalked forward, and Quinn could tell her father was stumbling a bit due to the alcohol running through his system. As soon as he was next to her bed, she forced a stoic facade. The beating would only be worse if she showed any signs of pain.

"Father?" Quinn asked. She silently thanked herself for the lack of tremble in her voice. A growl bubbled in her father's chest.

"Shut up." He hissed while tightening his grip on the belt. His daughter's jaw tensed, and she quieted down obediently.

"You disappointed me today, Quinn." Her father belittled angrily. He raised the belt, and swiftly slapped her wherever he could. The blonde teenager jolted as the leather met her back. The stinging on her back rivaled the stinging in her eyes.

"Yes, sir." She whispered brokenly. He tsked lowly, but loud enough for Quinn to despise herself.

"At least you're recognizing your fucking mistakes." He muttered before gripping her arm roughly. He pulled her towards him, and the alcohol burned her nose.

"I failed you." She spoke quietly.

"That you did, you little bitch." Her father agreed before making a fist, and punching her square in the gut. She doubled over in agony. Yet, she made no noise.

"How does it feel? How does it feel to fail at everything you do? Why can't you be more like your sister?" Those words were a verbal smack to the face. Her father noticed, but had to physically repeat the gesture. Quinn grasped her stinging cheek as silent tears slid down her cheeks.

"It feels horrible, sir." She choked out.

"I would imagine so. Hell, your failures affects me! It effects this family's image, and I will make sure you realize just how much this hurts me." He grounded out in a drunken fury.

Mr. Fabray twisted his hands in her hair, and reeled her back. Their eyes met briefly before he raised his belt, and smacked her across the face with it. She felt grateful that the next day was a school day. Others would groan at the lack of relaxation of a weekend, but for Quinn, it meant less of a beating the night before; It meant eight blissful hours of freedom. At school, she ruled, and unleashed her pain onto unsuspecting victims, while at home, _she _was the bottom of the food chain.

The breath was quickly ripped from her lungs as a particularly hard hit to the chest also ripped her from her inner thoughts. Her father smirked at the sight of her writhing. He grabbed her arm, and squeezed it tightly. She whimpered to herself, and she knew a bruise would be in its place the next day. His hand lifted into the air, and backhanded her roughly.

Quinn flew onto her side, and landed onto her pillow. Tears soaked her pillow, and Mr. Fabray narrowed his eyes. He glanced over at the clock on her bedside table. _1:45. _The glowing red numbers glared back, and he sighed in exhaustion.

"Think about what I said. I only want you to be perfect. Like me." He muttered before turning on his heel, and exiting her room with a slam of the door. Quinn nuzzled into her pillow, and let the tears overtake her.

She believed what her father said. She was a disappointment, and if she bettered herself, and stopped making so many mistakes, she could be worthy of something. She could be worthy of many things: Perfection, success, maybe even love. If only she could be perfect. However, all she felt was trapped; Trapped and alone. A single thought drifted into her mind before exhaustion took over the pain.

_What if I can't be perfect? _

* * *

The alarm blared in Quinn's ear. Her eyes widened. Light filtered in through the thin curtains of her window. The clock continued to ring shrilly, and the blonde winced as she reached over to shut off the alarm. She grimaced at the purplish coloring covering her upper arms. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, but flinched as a dull throb shot through her abdomen.

Quinn lifted her shirt, and more bruising covered her stomach. A sigh escaped her lips, and she slowly hoisted herself to her feet. The blonde shuffled hesitantly to the bathroom, and a gasp tore from her lips when her cheek was swollen slightly, and her lip was split.

Panic enveloped her senses. She wasn't sure how to conceal the evidence of her father's rage, but decided that her best option was to ice her cheek. If anyone noticed her lip, she could just pass it off as a rendezvous with a boy. Then again, if word reached her father, hell would sure be paid.

_When the time comes, I'll think of something. _

With a tentative determination, she quickly (as quick as she could considering her bruises) dressed in enough clothing to cover herself. It might have appeared foreign, but Quinn dressed in a long sleeve shirt, and pants. She grabbed her bag, and walked downstairs to the kitchen. After gathering enough ice to fill a plastic baggie, she pulled out a rag, and folded the bag with it. A hiss escaped her mouth when the frozen sensation touched her cheek.

Footsteps descended the steps, and her father entered the kitchen without glancing her way. Something she was grateful for. Without a look back, the blonde girl walked out of the house, and prepared for the school day ahead.

**Okay, so this is my first Glee fic, and reviews would certainly help me if any mistakes were caught. Or just a regular review to tell me how this is progressing? ;) Anyway, let me know what you think, yeah?**


	2. Chapter 2: Problems at School

**A/N: Let me start this chapter with a large thank you to everyone who followed, faved, and commented. It filled me with determination, and here we are, the next chapter.**

Quinn's jaw tensed as she sat behind the steering wheel of her car. Her knuckles were paling significantly as the pressure of her grip on the wheel tightened. Her eyes scanned over several of the unnamed faces that pooled outside of the school building. Her tongue flicked out to wet her bottom lip.

She breathed in deeply to regain her self control. It was time for her HBIC facade to cover herself. So with a new found determination, the blonde opened the car door, and stepped onto the blacktop of the parking lot. She subconsciously ran a hand down her clothes, and stalked forward with her signature scowl in place.

She knew. Oh yes, she knew others knew of her presence. That much was obvious when the sea of students parted to grant her an easy access through the halls. The smirk on her face was as cold as she felt internally. However, the blonde stopped abruptly in her tracks when her eyes landed on none other than Rachel Berry. Her eyes narrowed in a deadly fashion as Finn was leaning against the locker next to the petite brunette.

"Wow, Q. What's got your face looking like you drank sour milk?" Santana asked suddenly from her side. Quinn turned to face the other girl, slightly startled by the silent footstep she had.

"Nothing." The blonde hissed before turning to her locker. All the while, her eyes were firmly focused on the laughing pair.

"Are you sure you don't have to go to the bathroom? Lord Tubbington always makes that face before he runs to his litter box." Brittany mentioned nonchalantly with her arm interlocked with the Latina's beside her. Santana barked back a laugh at the look on Quinn's face.

"No, Brittany. I don't have to... use the bathroom." The blonde denied while lifting her arm to fiddle with her combination. A groan of pain slipped her lips without her permission.

"You okay there, blondie?" Santana questioned with a raised eyebrow. The taller blonde stepped forward with a look of concern flashing in her eyes. As much as it physically pained Quinn to do, she raised a hand to halt the other girl.

"I'm fine." She promised. _Lied. _

"The fact that you aren't wearing your uniform is proof enough that you're lying. Besides, if there wasn't, Sue will make sure to destroy you." The Latina replied absentmindedly. Quinn winced at the word 'destroy'.

"Trust me, I'm fine." The blonde muttered quietly.

"Are you sure, Quinn? You don't look so good." Brittany informed while cocking her head to the side.

"Never better. Now if you'll excuse me, I have class to attend." Quinn dismissed while attempting to pass the couple. A hand on her arm brought her to a stop. She bit back the whimper.

"Last time I checked, we share first period. History class we go." Santana grinned triumphantly. Brittany squeezed her girlfriend's hand before flashing a bright smile to the other blonde. Quinn held back a string of profanities. She wasn't in the mood to get in a fight with Santana over saying offensive things to innocent Brittany.

"Great." She murmured under her breath unenthusiastically.

* * *

Quinn tapped her finger on the cool wooden table before her. Her eyes repeatedly checked the clock. Although she loved any excuse to stay away from her house, history class was an exception. A soft sigh escaped her lips for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. The teacher turned to glare at her for the fourth time as well. The blonde rolled her eyes unfazed. Santana snorted from her seat beside her. The Unholy Trinity were seated in the back, and were passing notes inconspicuously. Maybe they weren't very sly about it. Either way, the three couldn't have cared less.

The Latina skillfully passed the folded paper to her right. Quinn didn't bother to check if the coast was clear before opening up the paper and reading the message.

_Yo, Q. You up for dinner at Breadstix?_

The blonde's eyebrows creased. She turned to face Santana, but the girl pointed at her girlfriend, and gave Quinn an _It-was-her-idea _look. Brittany smiled, and nodded encouragingly. Quinn felt tempted to agree, but without her father's permission, she was sure to get in trouble.

The blonde began to scribble down her refusal, but hesitated. She looked up, and into space as she contemplated her options. She could always call home and say she had to study at one of the two's houses, but doubt crept up her spine. As soon as that ounce of doubt seeped in, every insecurity washed through every pro she thought up for accompanying her friends. After breathing deeply, she wrote down a response.

_If my father asks, I had to stay at your place for a project._

Santana narrowed her eyes, but nodded nevertheless. The note passing seized when the teacher glowered at the two. The Latina glowered right back, and when he turned around, Santana smirked while working on the paper on her desk. Quinn turned to her own, but her mind was elsewhere.

_What have I done? I'm going to be in so much trouble for this. _She was pulled from her trance by the bell signalling the end of class. The blonde groaned as she recounted the fact she had a shared Spanish period with Berry. The thought made her teeth grind, and her stomach to twist uncomfortably. If Brittany and Santana noticed her changed demeanor, they didn't mention it.

Quinn grabbed her things, and stomped out of history. Brittany faced her girlfriend with a confused expression on her face.

"What's wrong with Quinn?" The blonde wondered aloud. Santana smiled at the cute look, and grabbed her hand affectionately.

"I think you were spot on with the bathroom thing." The Latina joked. Brittany giggled before dragging the other girl out of class.

* * *

Rachel was called many things throughout high school. However, clueless wasn't one of them. A tingling feeling surged through her as the feeling of being watched crept up on her. Well, in this case, the feeling of being glared at. She wasn't too sure as of why, but the brunette could tell Quinn was glaring holes into her back. The question wasn't why, it was, what had she done this time?

She slowly peered over to the blonde, but quickly looked away with a gulp at the murderous stare that crossed Quinn's features. Rachel turned back to focus on Mr. Shue, but found herself lacking interest. _That _startled her. Instead of dwelling on Mr. Shue's lecture and Quinn's questionable outrage, the petite brunette opted to doodle in her notebook.

A small smile graced her lips at the words Finn Hudson had said to her before. The whole school figured that the singer had a major crush on the tall boy. While it was true to some degree, Rachel figured it was probably for the best if things remained friendly between Finn and herself. From the glare of his ex girlfriend, it was the best for her health.

"Rachel?" Mr. Shue called. Her head snapped to the front of the room.

"Yes?" She questioned in confusion.

"I asked if you knew the answer to number four." The man repeated with narrowed eyes. Everyone turned to gaze at her.

"I am afraid I do not." Rachel admitted meekly. All the other occupants raised an eyebrow in wonder. They were all used to Rachel 'I know the answer to everything' Berry's lecture on the answer.

"You don't? That's... surprising." Mr. Shue paused, baffled at the notion. Quinn's eyes were widened slightly, but she decided to put the display behind her. The blonde pulled out her phone, and messed around with a few apps.

"Quinn." Shue admonished. He walked down the isle towards her seat with an outstretched palm. "Give it to me." He ordered.

"Can't teachers get in trouble for saying things like that to their students?" Quinn quipped with a smirk. The smirk grew at the laughter of her peers. The blush on the older man's face made it all the more amusing. Quinn wasn't sure if it was due to his embarrassment, or his anger.

"Principal's office. Now." He grounded out roughly. The blonde chastised herself. She was sure to get into trouble with her father, but this time, she knew she was going to deserve every hit.

Then again, something was going to anger Mr. Fabray, so she thought she might as well deserve it. _So much for dinner with San and Britt. _With a heavy sigh, Quinn picked up her stuff, and exited the spanish classroom with a sense of fear and dread washing over her.

**In this storyline, Quinn did sleep with Puck, but didn't get pregnant. She is broken up with Finn, but still on the Cheerios.**


	3. Chapter 3: You Live With An Ignorant

The glare of the fluorescent lights reflected of the dusty floor beneath Quinn's feet, and shone in her eyes. She squeezed them tightly until small dots appeared in her vision once she opened them. Her lips were clenched shut as well in a last effort attempt to keep the vomit at bay. Everything around her was silent save for the few students digging through their lockers.

She grimaced, and put her binder up to her chest. The blonde passed by the geometry classroom, and Santana narrowed her eyes when she noticed her walk by. Quinn shook her head, and picked up her pace. Once the office was in her sight, she paused in hesitation. She bit her bottom lip as she contemplated on whether to force her right foot in front of the other.

"Ah, Miss Fabray. I was expecting you." Mr. Figgins said from out of nowhere. Quinn jumped at the intrusion, and her knuckles strained as her grip on her binder tightened like her life depended on it.

"You don't say. I was expecting you, too." The blonde swallowed roughly. The principal raised an eyebrow, but stalked forward to his office. He knew the younger girl knew well enough to follow without being asked.

Quinn sighed heavily, and slumped after him. The squeaks of his shoes rang in her ears. She counted every step he took before he reached the door. _Eight. Nine. Ten. _He paused to pull out his ring of keys. Now, all she heard was the jingle of said keys. Quinn's nerves were already shot, but the little sounds were enough to fry them even more. Her breathing became louder and louder to the point where the older man glanced back at her questioningly.

"Are you feeling ill, Miss Fabray?" Mr. Figgins questioned with a hint of concern underlining his tone. The blonde stopped breathing altogether. She merely nodded her answer.

The principal looked uncertain, but resumed his previous actions. He dug the key into the lock, and twisted to the right. The man walked through the threshold to his desk. Quinn barely stepping into the office by the time he signaled for her to take a seat. She shrank into one of the seats before his desk. She felt highly uncomfortable as she squirmed in the chair. Silence loomed over the pair, and the incessant ticking of the clock on the wall drove the blonde insane. Finally, thankfully, (dreadfully) Principal Figgins broke the quiet hush.

"Mr. Shue has brought to my attention of your lack of attention." He started slowly.

"Uh huh." Quinn hummed.

"That isn't the acceptable answer." He warned with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, sir." She replied with a deep frown. Figgins nodded curtly before continuing.

"I will be calling your parents to inform them of this incident, and perhaps it won't happen next time." He ordered. Quinn held back a retort, as well as her plea. She was a Fabray, they don't beg.

"Believe me. It won't." Quinn promised with hatred lacing her voice. Whether it was towards Figgins or herself, she wasn't absolutely sure. What was a given was the fact she was going to be punished. She deserved it.

"Good." The man on the opposite side of the desk responded. He picked up the phone, and dialed, much to the blonde's chagrin.

* * *

Quinn was perched on the bench outside the office. Her despise of pleading soon flew out the door when she caught sight of her father. The blonde pleaded to be sent out when her father was informed. Mr. Figgins narrowed his eyes questioningly, but soon relented. So there she was on the bench glancing over into the principal's office occasionally. The fake smile on Mr. Fabray's face when he walked in sent a terrified shudder down the young woman's spine.

The father and daughter met gazes, and Quinn could see the deadly scorn shining in his eyes. She gulped, and looked away quickly. Suddenly, there was someone sitting in the space beside her. The blonde sighed internally before slowly turning to observe whoever was there. Her breathing stopped altogether when the petite brunette that was Rachel was staring at her with innocent eyes.

"R-Manhands. What are you doing here?" Quinn sneered while gazing back into the office. Her father was looking at her with absolute hatred. Quinn shivered with terror, but forced herself to remain calm while at school. Unfortunately, Rachel noticed her change in demeanor.

"Quinn? Are you alright?" She questioned with a perplexed look on her face. The blonde reeled back in surprise. She quickly schooled her features to a cold mask. Rachel knew the look all too well.

"What's it to you, treasure trail?" Quinn snapped icily. The brunette noticed the wording. Instead of 'I am fine', she dismissed the concern defensively.

"I know it is none of my business, but I couldn't help but notice you look slightly petrified." said the hesitant brunette. She knew she was treading on thin ice, but the look on the blonde's face, and the gleam in Mr. Fabray's eyes were alarming. Quinn's jaw tensed as her eyes narrowed threateningly.

"You know nothing." The blonde whispered with hatred leaking into her tone. The office door swung open to reveal Mr. Fabray shaking hands with Mr. Figgins. Once the father turned around, he looked at the pair on the bench. If looks could kill, Quinn would be six feet under. That's to say she could die twice. She already felt dead on the inside.

"I will see you after school." He warned subtly. Quinn gulped, but tried to persuade him.

"S-Sir? I-I had an assignment I planned to work on at Santana's house. Would it be acceptable if-" She started, but was cut off by a hard edge in her father's voice.

"No daughter of mine will associate with their kind." He hissed while glancing at Rachel. She raised an eyebrow in offense.

"What do you mean? As in racism?" Quinn queried exasperatedly. Mr. Fabray shook his head derisively.

"As in dykes." He strained angrily. "You know what, I'm taking you home now." He ordered before turning to the office to sign her out.

There was a thick silence between the two girls on the bench. One was quiet due to her anger at having her fathers insulted, and the other was out of mixed emotions. The number one emotion running through her veins was fear. Pure terror. It masked all other emotions, but there was still other feelings. The blonde felt anger towards her father as she always did. He insulted her friends. Self-hatred engulfed her heavily. The whole day was weighing on her, and Quinn wasn't sure how much she could take; How much she wanted to take.

"R-Rachel? I'm sorry about my father." She apologized on her father's behalf. The brunette glanced at her. She registered the fact that that was the firt time her name was spoken from Quinn, but she was too furious on _her _fathers' behalf. Rachel stood from the bench, and walked away. Before she got far, she paused to call over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have to live with such an ignorant man." She said before walked away.

_Don't I know it. _

Quinn sighed before following her father instead of the hurt brunette. All the while, she wondered why she would have followed Berry. Quickly shaking it off, the blonde focused on walking steadily down the deserted hall. She refused to meet her father's eye, but his tight grip on the back of her neck was enough to guide her in the right direction. She was definitely going to get it when they arrived home.

* * *

Another punch landed squarely on her jaw. A small trickle of blood leaked out the side of her mouth. The tears streaming down her face barely registered in her mind. The only thing she heard was her breathing. The only thing she felt was the throb in her jaw, and that last all of two seconds before the crippling numbness swallowed the blonde whole. She stood with her head hanging, and her hair covering her face. _If only it could hide my shame. _Quinn clenched her fists by her sides.

"I am wasting money on your education. It is awfully disrespectful to goof off during your fucking classes." Her father said in outrage. He punctuated his sentence with a slap to her face. Her neck snapped to the side, but she remained upright. "Look at me." He ordered. Quinn glanced at him, and forced herself to keep eye contact.

"Tell me, how do you feel about yourself. _I _feel disgusted by you, but inform me of your feelings towards yourself." Mr. Fabray sneered. His daughter swallowed down her resentment for the man.

"I hate myself. I resent myself. I am nothing." She answered monotonously. That answer seemed to satisfy the man. He began to pace in front of her. Quinn's mother sat at the kitchen table with a cold plate of her untouched lunch in front of her.

"Thank god I'm not the only one who sees that." The middle aged man agreed. "Get out of my sight." He banished. Quinn nodded silently before running to the stairs. "After you finish the dishes!" Mr. Fabray ordered with a cold smirk.

"My side hurts." The youngest blonde whimpered. Her father's smirk widened.

"Which is why I told _you _to do it." He chuckled at the wounded expression on his daughter's face. "I want them done before your mother is finished with her lunch." He commanded with a superior tone. Quinn glanced at the food on Mrs. Fabray's plate, and nodded slowly.

"Yes, sir. I'll finish, then go to my room." She repeated in a whisper. Her father nodded before ascending the stairs without a word.

"I will do them, honey." Mrs. Fabray offered while pushing her plate towards her blonde daughter. "You eat that." She said, yet it sounded more of a plea.

"He ordered me to." Quinn mumbled in a dead tone. Her mother paused with a sad sigh before pulling her daughter into a warm hug. The young woman tensed, and eventually lessened her muscles. She didn't fully calm down, but wasn't as unnerved.

"I know what he said, but what he doesn't know can't hurt hurt him. Or you." The older woman reasoned sadly. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.

"Okay, but when he comes back down, we have to switch places." Quinn relented. Mrs. Fabray nodded, and turned to the sink while her daughter tentatively perched herself in the seat at the dining table.

The two relapsed into silence as the older woman cleaned, and the younger ate. Although, Quinn more or less picked at the food. Her appetite evaded her, and it meant more time to clean if her father came back before the dishes were done. She forced a forkful into her mouth, and chewed slowly. Her stomach was refusing it, but her mother wanted her to finish it in exchange for taking her place at the sink.

Quinn despised herself for it. Suddenly, her phone vibrated against her leg. It was on silent, and for that, she patted herself on the back. She skillfully slipped her phone out of her pocket, and opened up the message.

_Wtf, Q? Where did you go? _

The blonde rolled her eyes, and gazed in her mother's direction. She was helping her, but it didn't mean she'd protect her from her father's rage at seeing her on her phone after the incident at school. When she was sure that she wasn't going to look her way, Quinn typed back a reply.

_My father signed me out. _

A minute later, she received another text.

_Why? _

Quinn sighed. She really did hate lying to her friends. She really wanted to reveal everything about her family's secrets. She really wanted to escape the hell that was her home, but it seemed the only way was death. With a quiet sigh, she replied to Santana.

_I got in trouble for playing on my phone during class. _

After that final message, she powered off her phone, and slipped it back into her pocket. A loud slam of a door upstairs scared Quinn out of her wits. She shared a look with her mother, and the pair switched places quickly. When Mr. Fabray was on the last step, his wife was munching on her lunch, and his daughter was flinching as she scrubbed a plate.

"You're doing a horrible job." He degraded. Mrs. Fabray raised an eyebrow, insulted.

"She is hurt. Please let her off with a warning." She pleaded with a hint of anger in her voice. Her husband slowly turned to look at her.

"Did you just talk back to me? I am the man of this house, and you will do nothing more than housework, and agree with my desicions." Mr. Fabray raised his voice. Judy remained silent, and he turned to look at his daughter wityh disgust.

"You didn't do them right. Just get the hell out of here. You can't do anything right." He growled. Quinn scurried as fast as she physically could to her room. Her father turned to her mother. "Finish those." He ordered before storming out of the house.

Judy sighed in barely repressed anger, and scraped the food on the plate into the trash. She flung the dish into the soapy water, and hunched over the counter. "Just listen to him." She said into the air. Quinn could tell the words were meant for her from her place on the stairs.

She quickly entered her room, and slammed the door. The clock on her bedside table read twelve p.m., and Quinn gently lied down on top of her bed. Her eyes grew heavy, and her last thoughts before succumbing to her exhaustion was how much she wanted out. No matter the cost.


	4. Chapter 4: Those Who Bully, Are Bullied

**A/N: Let me start this chapter by giving a thank you to maskedcolors and MarchingbandGLEEK for their continuous reviews. Thanks guys. I hope this chapter is enough for another review. ;)**

The sunlight was dwindling, and Quinn's room grew dark. She stared at the ceiling with tired eyes, yet she, surprisingly, slept through the entire day. A red glare shone brightly on the left side of her face. The blonde craned her neck to glance over at it. Her clock flashed in her face which confused her. The damn thing must have come unplugged.

With a shaky hand, she reached over to put an end to the irritating blink. However, given that she wasn't familiar with the time, she just unplugged it again. With a muffled groan of agony, her muscles protested as she forced her body upright. The blonde leaned against her headboard with a sigh. A quiet hush lulled her into a dozing state. After a moment to brace herself, Quinn slowly pulled her phone out of her pocket.

She contemplated on turning it back on. The suspense of any missed call or text began to pick away at her. She grew antsy in her seat, and held down the power button. She little ding that sounded from powering on struck her with panic. When no footsteps were heard outside her door, the blonde focused on calming her breaths. With not-so-steady fingers, she tapped the screen, and noticed two missed calls, and nine missed texts.

Quinn released a breath, and opened the call log. Two missed calls, and four missed texts from Brittany, four missed texts from Santana, and a text from an unknown number. Confusion and curiosity coursed through her veins as she tapped the unknown number.

_Hello, Quinn. This is Rachel Berry. I got your number from Mercedes, I hope that is okay. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. After I calmed down after your father's words, I realized I shouldn't have gotten angry at you. I'm sorry. _

Quinn scoffed. Even in text form, Man hands could bore the hell out of you. The blonde bounced around the idea of responding, but decided to answer her friends first. She opened the other blonde's text first, and began to skim through the jumbled mess of letters.

_Quinn, wher r u?_

_R u ok?_

_Ur scaring me._

_Seriusly, y r u not answrng? _

Quinn really wished Brittany could spell a full sentence. She knew the taller blonde was capable of it, but felt it took less time. With a sigh, she sent the same answer she gave Santana earlier that day. She really felt hesitant about the Latina's messages. They were bound to be rude, crass, and downright insulting. For what felt like the millionth time that day, she rolled her eyes. With uncertain fingers, the blonde opened the messages.

_Wtf did u do?_

_We r goin 2 breadstix_

_Hello_

_Ur worrying Britts. Im not getting sexy time. Answr damn phone _

The blonde gently lied the phone on her bedside table without replying to Santana. Her hands found their way under her head, and she bit on her bottom lip, not caring if it was split from hours prior. Her eyes zoomed to the crack under the door when a shadow appeared. Quinn stopped breathing altogether. Her hazel eyes were as wide as saucers, and her lips were parted slightly. She was in a true panic mode.

However, the feet just stood at the door. Antagonizingly. They didn't move an inch. Whoever was out there was staring at her door. Was it a glare of hatred? Was it a glimpse of sympathy? Or could it have been a gaze of guilt and sorrow? Quinn knew for damn sure that whoever was out there wasn't looking for her out of love. No one loved her. After a tense minute, the person walked away, leaving a ball of self-hatred and self-disgust in the young blonde.

She pondered on what to do next. Her stomach growled. Understandably so. She hadn't eaten, and what she did eat was very little, and against her appetite's wishes. A mild pain was felt in her stomach. Quinn closed her eyes, and marveled at the feeling. She tapped her fingers against her stomach, and paused in thought. Maybe she didn't deserve food. Maybe if she found something to motivate her, like food, she'd finally do something right. The blonde nodded in uncertain determination.

She turned back to her phone, and read Berry's message again. She pursed her lips, and hummed slightly as she contemplated her next course of action. Quinn tapped the tip of her phone against her chin. She scooted her body down on the bed, and lied a hand under her head. She gazed up at the ceiling with her phone tucked face down against her chest. The faint glow of the screen peeked out both sides. Her grip tightened slightly, and she lifted it back up to face the screen. Uncertainty coursed through her veins as she typed a reply.

_You're right. My father is an asshole, but I'm fine._

The blonde's eyes were glued to her message. She didn't press send, she just sat there re-reading her words over and over. Maybe she hoped that if she read them enough times, they would come true. Maybe she knew that Rachel wouldn't believe her. Quinn wouldn't blame her. How could she? She didn't believe it herself. She lost count of the number of times she was close to hitting send.

Her pointer finger narrowed on the send button once more. Before she could change her mind, Quinn deleted the whole message, and powered off the phone again. Maybe just typing it out was good enough for her. Deep down, she knew it wasn't, but for the moment, it was enough to lift her spirits. She wasn't too sure why it did, but she she wasn't going to question it.

* * *

Santana watched Brittany with a gaze of concern and sexual frustration as the tall blonde bit her lip with a worried expression on her face. Lord Tubbington meowed with a glint in his eye that showed his lack of amusement. The Latina scowled at the oversized cat. Brittany caught her look, and rolled her eyes at her girlfriend before picking up her cat.

"Don't look at Lord Tubbington like that." She scolded gently while petting behind his ears. He purred in content with glancing at Santana with a look she could only describe as smug.

"That overgrown cat hates me, Britts." She whined in an un-Santana like fashion. The blonde rolled her eyes in mock frustration.

"He's not fat, he's fun sized!" She defended with a giggle. The other cheerleader raised an eyebrow, and opened her mouth to retaliate.

"He isn't fun sized, he's family sized." The Latina quipped before laughing at the offended look on the cat in question's face. Brittany covered his ears, gasping at her wording. She was about to deadpan, but a ding from her phone on the table stopped her. Three sets of eyes gazed over at the lit up electronic. Brittany reached over to answer the text, and her eyes lit up just like the phone.

"It's from Quinn!" The tall blonde informed cheerfully. Her eyes narrowed when she read the short message. "She got in trouble at school? Did you know about that?" Brittany asked after turning to face her girlfriend.

"She might have told me her dad picked her up after I saw her walking to Figgins' office. She didn't tell me what it was about." Santana admitted, pulling her hair out from it's high ponytail.

"I'll ask her." The blonde girl said while typing away on her phone. Before she could send, her girlfriend stopped her with a gentle hand.

"I don't think she wants to talk." Santana surmised carefully. Brittany tilted her head in confusion. Her eyebrows were furrowed a bit, and Santana thought it was the most adorable sight in the world. She wouldn't admit that, but the sentiment was true.

"Why not?" Brittany asked innocently. The other girl sighed quietly to herself.

"She didn't reply to me. Q only messaged you, and it was short and to the point. If she didn't respond to me, it's because she knows we're together, and knew I'd get it, too. Why don't we wait until tomorrow to talk to her? We still have to get ready to go to Breadstix." Santana offered with a small smile. After a moment of consideration, Brittany slowly nodded, and set down her phone.

"You're so smart, Sanny." The blonde complimented with a grin. The Latina smiled warmly. Her Britts was the only one who was allowed to call her that. She grabbed the taller girl's hand, and pulled her along.

"Don't you forget it. Now come on." She urged. Brittany chuckled, but bent down to pet Lord Tubbington one last time before standing straight, and moving to exit the room. What she didn't catch, was the cocky grin Santana gave the cat before dodging the lazy swipe of his paw.

* * *

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip while she stared at her phone. Hiram and Leroy Berry stood in the doorway of their daughter's room. They shared a look before stepping in. Hiram placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder, and Leroy took a seat on the foot of her bed.

"Honey, what are you doing?" Hiram questioned in pure curiosity. Rachel seemed to snap out of her reverie, and turned in the chair to face her fathers. She had a slightly angered, yet concerned expression on her face.

"I'm waiting for a text." She answered hesitantly. Leroy picked up on the tone quickly.

"From who?" He asked, crossing his arms. Their brunette daughter sighed, and struggled to explain.

"You see, I have this classmate-" She started, but Hiram cut her off.

"What's his name?" He asked knowingly. Rachel shook her head.

"Please, if you would allow me to finish." When both of her fathers nodded, she continued; "Her name is Quinn, and I saw her outside the principal's office. Her father was called, and he said some pretty derogatory things. I got angry, and took my anger out on her." Rachel finished in one breath. Both the Berry men had to take a minute to fully take in what she said.

"What did he say? What did you say?" Hiram questioned, pulling her into an embrace. The tiny brunette sighed with a frown.

"He insulted you two, and two of her girl friends who happen to be in a relationship. Together. I grew angry, and called him an ignorant." Rachel admitted in a mumble.

"Why do you feel she would be offended? You called him a name, not her." Leroy struggled to comprehend. Their daughter rolled her eyes in frustration.

"I yelled at her. Plus, she looked terrified. Not to mention that she called me by my name." Rachel added the last part to herself.

"What do you mean by 'She called me by my name'?" Hiram asked with narrowed eyes.

"Quinn calls me names. Occasionally." She lied weakly. The fathers shared a look.

"So she bullies you?" Leroy asked incredulously. He couldn't understand why she felt the need to apologize to her. She didn't do anything wrong in their eyes. Especially to their little girl's bully. He sighed. She was definitely something special.

"Dad. Daddy. Can we please end this discussion? Please?" Rachel begged. Hiram and Leroy sighed simultaneously, and the latter stood from his seat on the bed. They each kissed her on the top of her head, and walked towards her door.

"Fine, but we will continue this eventually." Hiram warned with a pointed finger. Rachel nodded; "Okay. Goodnight." He said.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." Leroy called over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, dad. Goodnight, daddy." She responded instinctively.

Once they shut her door, Rachel exhaled heavily. She lied the phone on her desk, and went to change into her pajamas. When she was finished, she flicked down the light switch, and lied down onto her bed. Her last thoughts before drifting off to sleep was the advice her fathers gave her years ago. _Those who bully, are usually bullied themselves._


End file.
